


Shroud

by ShadyLantern



Series: Stars At Dawn [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Conflict, Exposition, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25543303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadyLantern/pseuds/ShadyLantern
Summary: Dorian learns more about Lavellan's past through his sister.
Relationships: Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Series: Stars At Dawn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906846
Kudos: 15





	Shroud

“Damn it!” Cassiel pressed a finger to his cheek, stemming the blood. He glowered in the mirror, letting out a long breath. Shaving could be a real pain in the ass. 

Very few elves even grew facial hair to begin with; it was a sign of cross breeding somewhere in the family line. His father had to teach him how to shave growing up, and have razors made specifically for the two of them. He also had no idea how far back the trait went, since he knew of no one in his ancestry who wasn’t elven. Whatever his blood mix, it was extremely small, but he still felt the need to curse it as he rinsed the trace blood from his sink. 

He sighed, carefully starting again. It wasn’t as if he was bad at shaving, not really. His hands were quivering, and his mind drifting even as he tried to focus on his reflection. His sleep was still disturbed with nightmares and rough awakenings. With Dorian’s gentle encouragement, he tried to go to bed at a reasonable time, but often spent hours drifting in and out of sleep or simply staring at the ceiling. 

The sun rising was a relief, in its way, not because he was well-rested but it was finally an excuse to get out of bed. He was certainly not well-rested in the least but he had work to do, appointments to keep, and at least while his focus remained on those, the memories stayed to the back of his mind. For the most part. 

A flicker and his hand slipped again. He bit his lip, dropping the razor in frustration and grabbing a towel to wipe his face. Well, whatever he had gotten done would have to be good enough. No point in carving his face more than it already had been. He took in a long, slow breath, looking at himself in the mirror. 

He looked like shit, and not just because of the shoddy shaving. His eyes were drawn and exhausted, and the light from the window seemed to accentuate the lines on his face. He forced a smile, trying not to look too strained. Had to appear pleasant to the people. Could not afford to look weak. He sighed after a few attempts, tossing the towel in the sink with the razor to deal with later, and walked back out into his room. 

Dorian was already gone, Cassiel very non subtly asking for privacy by insinuating he should go on ahead without him. Part of him wished very much he hadn’t, the part of him that was dying for company, but the other half of him still deeply wished to be alone with himself and his thoughts. Not to mention how much he was disrupting Dorian’s sleep schedule with his screams and fits in the night. Guilt crawled sickly through his chest. All that, and he couldn’t even be open with the man. Not completely. 

He opened his dresser drawers, looking for an outfit to wear. His original intention had been to put on whatever he had worn yesterday, but since he had left it crumpled on the floor that was off the table. If Vivienne were to see him in such a state, she would wring his ear off, inquisitor or no. 

Dark laughter echoed in his ears, making him tense, fingers clutching the shirt he had picked out tightly. He took in another slow breath, eyes sliding shut. He pulled it on as the memory faded once more. 

_‘How did I survive this even once?’_

He snorted, scowling at himself. _‘You didn’t. You shut down for seven years and it took an exploding conclave to wake you back up. Idiot.’_

He barely remembered those years now. Days had passed by him like dust in the wind, each one as meaningless as the last. He supposed he had had nightmares back then as well, but they had faded as he locked himself down in his own mind. It was strange to try and remember anything from that time. Nearly a quarter of his life that seemed to have vanished into the void while he withdrew into himself. 

But now that he was the inquisitor, he didn’t have that option. He finished dressing, trying to keep his mind from wandering again. 

*****

Dia was glad Cassiel had made a sprawling garden in Skyhold. It was the one place here that felt remotely like home, which was probably why he had made it. Plants and flowers lined the paths, beautiful trees here and there offering shade from the sun. Though they were in the mountains, the tall stone walls kept the lower parts of Skyhold from feeling the cold until night fell. Dia seated herself on a polished decorative boulder, crossing her legs. 

Platel leaned against a tree nearby, silent. She was definitely beginning to tire of his company. She remembered him as he once was, bright, cheerful, shy but genuine. It didn’t surprise her that he had been attracted to Cassiel’s natural charisma, or that her brother would have found his enthusiasm equally enticing. But with Cassiel’s rejection after Breele’s death, and his silence for the next almost decade, Platel had changed. Some of his old self resurfaced when he met his new partner, and even after they married, but he had once again grown colder as news of Cassiel’s exploits spread. Dia felt sympathy for Platel, but moreso for his husband and child. 

She had hoped seeing Cassiel would give him some measure of closure. When she had first visited him, months ago, her brother had changed so much for the better. He hadn’t just become who he once was, but who he was meant to be. Coming back to see that same hollow look to his face was not only painful but terrifying. She couldn’t bear to see him lose himself to despair once more. 

“I don’t even know why we’re bothering to stay at this point,” Platel finally grumbled. Dia sighed. And that was why she had grown impatient with Platel. He barely seemed concerned with Cassiel anymore. Just with his own frustrations, and petty jealously. “If he’s not going to make the time to see us, we may as well go back home.”

“I’m not leaving until I’m sure he’s all right.” Dia drummed her fingertips on her knee. “I thought you’d be more concerned, frankly.”

“Of course I’m concerned!” Platel seethed. “I was concerned for the last several years, and I still am! But he doesn’t want to see me.” He sneered, glowering toward the castle. “Just his pretty tevinter.”

And of course, it was right back to Dorian. Dia strained not to roll her eyes. Personally, she was glad she had managed to avoid all this relationship humdrum in her own life. “Dorian got him out of his room,” she said lightly, leaning back on the stone. Platel snorted. 

“He’s the inquisitor now. Duty would have gotten him out of his room sooner or later.”

Dia clicked her tongue, watching as group of humans walked past them through the garden. They fell silent when they saw the two elves, and seemed to hasten their steps. Dia heard their conversation restart once they thought they were out of hearing range. Platel shook his head. 

“And all to defend shemlen filth who look at us like dirt,” he grumbled. Dia smirked. 

“Well, maybe you scared them off with that ugly expression of yours.” Dia slid off the rock, stretching her legs. “Look Platel, you can leave if you want to. You’re a grown man, I’m sure you can make it back home without me.”

“I’m not just going to leave you here, Dia.”

She chuckled lightly. “You think I’m in danger? As far as I recall, I’m the warrior, not you.”

Platel sighed. “I know,” he said quietly. “I guess I’m still… hoping he’ll want to see me. Talk to me. Anything.”

“What do you think is going to come of that, Platel?” She heard a set of footsteps approaching, glancing back the way they came. 

“Maybe I can finally know why,” he said after a few moments, turning his head. He sneered openly when Dorian came into view, the tevinter holding a book under his arm. He looked surprised to see the two of them. “The hell are you doing here?”

Dorian looked at him with an amused expression, walking the last few feet to meet them. “I believe this is a walking path free for all to use,” he said smoothly, nodding respectfully to Platel. Dia put a hand on the angry elf’s shoulder, easing him back. 

“It’s good to see you, Dorian,” she said. “How are you doing?”

“I’m well. Thought I’d get a bit of sunlight while Cassiel is working.” He glanced around the area. “He tends to find me out here when he has free time,” he continued, gesturing down the path. “Were the two of you leaving?”

“Yes,” Platel said shortly. Dia waved him away. 

“I wouldn’t mind the company,” she said, giving the elf a warning look. Platel grit his teeth, looking torn between leaving and staying. But when Dorian continued down the path with Dia in tow, he followed along a few feet behind them. 

“What are you reading?” Dia asked as they walked. Dorian waved the book with a smirk. 

“The Mysteries of the Forest People. A collection of simply fascinating facts about the dalish.”

“I’m sure it’s all bullshit,” Platel grumbled. Dorian laughed, nodding. 

“It is. Cassiel recommended it to me when he found it. He said it was one of the most hilarious reads he had ever found.” He flipped through the pages, stopping somewhere in the middle. “Cassiel refuses to have it in our public library. It’s for dalish eyes only. And me.”

“What does it say about us?” Dia asked, slowing with the tevinter when they came to a clear grassy spot. In the center was a table and several chairs, and the three seated themselves around it, Dorian putting the book on the table. 

“It’s all very glorifying and pandering. And as Platel said, bullshit.” He drew a finger over a passage on the page he was on. Dia peered at it, though reading in english was not one of her strengths. “Here we have a tale of a man who came across a dalish clan far to the north. How far? Well… that is part of the mystery.” He grinned, leaning his chin on his hand as he read. “He followed a light into the forest, deeper and deeper, darker and darker. As he neared it, he felt lighter in his legs and heart, as if a weight were being lifted from his being. The light grew ever stronger, but not blinding, and as he reached the source he became aware of rhythmic, beautiful chanting. The trees opened to him abruptly, and he saw them: the fey people, surrounding a flame of beautiful white, singing to the stars and moon, and he felt as though his soul were lifted from his body.”

Dia felt her brow furrowing as he read, trying to imagine what the hell kind of dalish ceremony that could have been. “Sounds like he ate poison mushrooms,” she said in amusement. “Cassiel told me once that when he ate those, he could speak to the stars and they spoke back to him.”

“Cassiel ate hallucinogenic mushrooms?” Dorian said in surprise, looking to her. Dia laughed, not knowing what ‘hallucinogenic’ meant but assumed he understood her. Platel snorted. 

“I’m glad the two of you find blatant published lies about us funny.” He slammed the book shut, Dorian whipping his hand out of the way. “You realise books like this exist all over the place? No wonder shemlen think we’re demons, or animals, or dirt.”

“Cassiel gave me this,” Dorian started but Platel cut him off. 

“You of all people shouldn’t even be reading this!” he spat, throwing the book off the table. Dia grabbed his arm, but Platel shook her off. “I’m sure tevinter has some hilarious ideas about the dalish. Besides putting us in chains.”

Dia looked to Dorian quickly, but the man merely looked amused, rather than angry. Platel glared at him, seething. 

“Platel, that’s enough,” she said, but Dorian waved a hand to her. 

“No no, it’s fine. Really, I’ve heard much worse.”

“You don’t even deny it!” Platel snapped. Dorian raised a brow. 

“Deny what?”

“Owning slaves!”

“You never asked. And I don’t, if that soothes you.” He gestured to their surroundings. “I mean, it’s illegal outside of tevinter anyway - ”

Platel slammed a fist into the table, cutting him off. “You think this is so fucking funny, don’t you? My entire species is a joke to you! You laugh at us in your books - ” He pointed sharply to the discarded text in the grass. “ - and you laugh at us now! You can’t even wipe that smirk off your face!”

“Because you’re being ridiculous,” Dorian said coolly, leaning back. “You’re twisting everything I say to sound worse than it is. Do you really think Cassiel would partner with me if I hated the dalish?”

Platel jerked, as if to grab him, but clenched his fist. “Don’t say his name,” he hissed. Dorian raised a brow again. “It’s because of your kind that he’s hurt. Because of you he’s grieving. If it weren’t for you, he’d still…”

He cut off, looking away sharply. Dia looked between the two carefully. She wanted to step in again, but Dorian seemed unmoved, watching the elf quietly. Part of her hoped that maybe if this hate finally bubbled out of Platel, it would dissipate and he could move on. A vain hope.

“I’m sorry he left you,” Dorian said finally, voice solemn. Platel looked at him sharply, eyes flashing. “But it was his choice. And I can’t control that.”

The elf stared at him hard, eyes bright and angry, fists clenched tightly on the table. After several tense moments he spun away, storming off back down the path. Dia watched him go, ears tipped back, letting out a long breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding. She turned back to Dorian, the mage looking idly at his fingernails. 

“Are you all right?” she asked. He grinned, a slight upturn of his lips. 

“Of course. It’s hardly the first time I’ve been confronted by an angry ex. Though not many of them have been men.” He winked at her, getting up to retrieve the book from the ground. “And none of them elves,” he added as he sat down, flipping through the book. 

Dia leaned her elbows on the table, covering her face with her hands. “None of this has been going the way I wanted,” she said softly. She felt Dorian rest a comforting hand on her shoulder and sighed. “I’m a fool. A fool who should have kept her nose back where it belonged. But I had hoped…”

“I have nowhere to be, if you wish to talk,” he offered. Dia let her hands fall to the table with another long breath. 

“Platel has never gotten over Cassiel. I’m sure that much is obvious.” She scratched at her ear irritably, shaking her head. “When Breele died, Cassiel broke off their engagement with very little ceremony. Handed back his ring, apologised, and walked away. And considering what was going on at the time, Platel didn’t get very much sympathy.” She crossed her arms before her, looking off into the trees. “We dalish… We feel very strongly,” she said softly. “If something touches your heart it must be felt with the whole self. Dalish rarely remarry, did you know? When Breele died, I can easily say Cassiel felt it with his whole being. And no one was really very surprised he left Platel.”

“But your clan is polygamous?” Dorian asked, his words careful. Dia nodded. 

“Yes, that’s true. But Cassiel and Platel weren’t together for very long… Two years I believe, but most of that was very casual. It felt like a sudden decision to marry again, but they were waiting a year to do it.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “I suspect the idea was to have children first. Cassie and Breele, I mean.” Dorian’s pointed silence when she said that seemed to confirm it. She looked to him. “Did he tell you that?”

“He did,” he said softly. “It was meant to be a secret.”

Dia chuckled. “Well… I’m sure they tried to keep it a secret. But there was a change between them, that year. Oh, they were always so very close and loving.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling. “But there was… something new. This rekindled excitement. Suddenly they’re full of energy, Breele is less self conscious about his body, Cassiel is ever more publicly snuggling and kissing his beloved.” She waved a hand dismissively. Dorian chuckled. “Anyone paying attention was expecting our migration to end with a pregnancy announcement.” Her smile faded. “I suppose that was part of the tragedy. They wanted to be fathers so badly.”

“Did Platel know?” Dorian asked. Dia shrugged, looking up at the sky. 

“Honestly? I don’t think so. He’s sweet… Well, he can be. He’s sweet and genuine but ever so slightly clueless. I think he’s always battled jealousy, to an extent,” she added, leaning back in her chair. “Cassiel and Breele were always the most insufferable couple. It must’ve been hard to try and compete with that.”

She paused, thinking for a few moments, then glanced to Dorian. “... Sorry. I hope it’s not awkward to hear about his old husband.”

“No, it’s not. It’s… fascinating, really.” Dorian fiddled with the book’s cover distractedly, giving his hands something to do. “Cassiel never mentioned old partners before… all this. And he still doesn’t talk much about Breele.”

Dia nodded, leaning on her hand. “Yes. I know he never let go of him, but it’s like he shut down to try and never feel anything about him ever again. I suppose he never stopped mourning. I used to worry I’d wake and find he had vanished in the night, never to be seen again.” She shook her head. “And so, with all that going on, Platel was pushed off to the side somewhat. I’m not sure how attached he was to Breele. He felt his loss as much as the clan did, of course. But he was hit harder by losing Cassiel. And I suppose, in the end, we left him to recover on his own. With all the wounds to be healed, his was considered the least severe. And he’s had to foster that resentment ever since.”

The two fell silent after that, thinking to themselves. Dia almost felt breathless. It had been so long since she had talked to anyone about her own frustrations, so long since she had felt she could confide in someone. Dorian seemed patient, attentive, listening without judging. She found herself thankful Cassiel had managed to find someone so trustworthy. 

“Did you know I was meant to come here, not Cassiel?” she said after nearly a minute of silence. Dorian looked at her interestedly. 

“Really?”

Dia smiled a bit, clasping her hands before her. “I don’t know how much Thedas at large realises this, but the dalish are generally aware of what’s going on in the world. The… tumultuous situation between the mages and templars did not escape our notice.” She glanced to Dorian. “Well, the southern ones at least. Our keeper wanted someone to go to the enclave to… keep an eye on things.”

“Ah. A spy.” Dorian smiled wryly. “Very wise.”

“I’m surprised Cassiel didn’t tell you. But then, it seems he’s a bit close-mouthed about his past.”

“He doesn’t say much about his clan at all, actually,” Dorian said, leaning back in his chair. “I think he generally considers it to be private. He talks about all of you, of course,” he added after a moment. “His family.”

“Well, regardless. The keeper only wanted to send one elf, to keep our presence as subtle and forgettable as possible. And I was the one chosen to go, initially.” She leaned on her hands, thinking to herself. “... Cassiel asked me to switch places,” she continued softly. “He wanted a chance to… wake up, in a manner of speaking. A chance to get away from a clan of memories and pitying faces. I hesitated, I admit.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Not because I thought he would fail. Because I didn’t think he would come back.”

“He was… really that bad, was he?” Dorian asked in a quiet voice. Dia sighed, nodding. 

“I remember, some months prior to all this, I had gotten frustrated with him. Grabbed his shoulders and shook him and yelled at him. He just looked at me with this dead-eyed stare. I would have been elated if he had reacted in any way, if he shouted or punched me or anything.” She didn’t like to remember that. She wasn’t proud of letting her emotions get to her like that. But seeing her brother so hollow and empty for years on end was more than she could bear. “When he asked me to switch, it was the first time since Breele died that he seemed to have an ounce of emotion to himself. He barely even spoke by that point. So I asked the keeper to swap us. We gave Cassiel his chance.”

“Well well, if it isn’t my two favourite people!” Dia jumped at the cheerful voice behind them. She looked up in surprise to see her brother, the elf clapping her on the shoulder as he walked around the table to seat himself. She wondered if he had heard anything she had said, but he gave no sign, taking Dorian’s hand in his and kissing it softly. His eyes lit up when he saw the book on the table. “Oh, were you reading this?” he asked, picking it up. “Mysteries of the Forest People… Sometimes I sit with other elves and read this out like a campfire story. Always good for a laugh.”

“Platel didn’t care for it,” Dia said in amusement. Cassiel snorted, tossing the book back on the table. 

“What a shocker. Where is he?” he asked, glancing around. 

“We had a chat, and he left,” Dorian said, grinning. Cassiel shook his head very slightly, then shrugged. 

“What have you been up to, Cassie?” Dia asked. Cassiel leaned on the table, looking weary. 

“I have spent much of the morning working out the very exacting details of two noble families I would like to ally with,” he said, ears tipping back. “If it was only boring, I wouldn’t mind, but they’re very precise on what they want, and very precise on what the _other_ family doesn’t get. If I didn’t have Josephine there to keep things running smoothly, well…” He threw up his hands. 

“Do you really need their support?” Dia asked, raising a brow. Cassiel grinned, leaning back.

“We’re powerful, but we need as much support as we can. The nobility are frustrating, and I’d like to bang their heads into a wall - and mine, some days - but they have resources and connections the inquisition can use. Hopefully we can finalise that all this afternoon. Then I need to meet with…”

Cassiel went on, describing the various appointments he had that day, and over the week. Dia could hardly keep up with the names, and titles, watching and listening with some bemusement. He looked exhausted, face drawn and lined, but his voice was still charismatic, upbeat. She looked to the mark on his hand as he waved it to illustrate a point. This had almost been her. 

She had no doubt she could not have done this nearly as well Cassiel had. He might have hated the politics, but he was good at it, sharp and clever and patient. She was sure he knew when to be hard and when to compromise, who to keep and who to lose. She could never have done all that. The complexities of the human social system… She could never have navigated it.

“... put her to sleep.” Cassiel nudged Dia, the elf snapping out of her thoughts to see his wry grin. “Hey there. Does my work bore you?”

She smirked. “I don’t know how you even remember all those names, let alone everything else. I’d ditch half those alliances based purely on simplicity.”

Cassiel laughed, reaching out to take Dorian’s hand. “I have people who help me to remember,” he said, winking at Dorian. “Not him, of course. My advisors. Dorian thinks the nobles are a bunch of boring pisspots.”

“I’m sure Dia would agree with me, based on the thrilling details you just gave us,” Dorian teased. Cassiel was watching him fondly, eyes travelling his face. Dia smiled a little. “Nobody has even tried to assassinate me, or sent an agent to bed and corrupt you. It’s spineless, really.”

“No, but they do accuse me of blood magic, somehow. I wonder why that is.” He kissed the mage’s hand, sharing a laugh with the man. His eyes flickered a moment, hand tensing, before he relaxed again. Dorian stroked down his cheek softly, watching him, but said nothing. Cassiel took in a slow breath, then smirked again, slightly forced. “Vivienne caught me trying to go to my meeting unshaven. She had me sat down and a professional take a razor to my face.” He scratched at his cheek. “And even cover up where I cut this morning.”

“You got off easy. She might have had your whole face carved off for messing up so direly.”

“I did get a long lecture about how one must appear their best.” Cassiel yawned, stretching. “A long, well-meaning lecture. And an offer to bring in her barber again, should I find myself unable or unwilling to shave.” He stood, stretching his legs out further. “Are the two of you hungry? I’d like to get some food before my next appointment.”

“All right, but I’m not eating in that tavern. It’s much too loud,” Dia said, getting up with the others, following them as they made their way down the path. 

She watched Cassiel and Dorian chat away animatedly, laughing and joking with each other. Cassiel wrapped his arm around the mage’s, leaning on him, and his expression was… happy. Weary, and drawn, but happy. Contented. To see him at peace like this… It really was a dream come true for her. Or like waking from a nightmare. 

Perhaps that was how it felt for him, too.


End file.
